


deviation

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hpsapphicappeal, Dom/sub, F/F, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12901440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: In any other situation, Lily would hate it.





	deviation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudersaffair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/gifts).



> For maraudersaffair, who asked for “good girl/bad girl, desperate sex, d/s, and running into each other at a pub.”

The floor beneath her knees is hard, harsh, the coolness of it seeping past the fabric of her trousers and into her skin. Lily tries to move, to ease the ache, but any such movement is stopped by the tightening of a hand in her hair, by Narcissa’s quick hiss to _stay still._

Her body obeys on reflex. The command is a familiar one, is something Narcissa would tell her when they did this years ago, back at school. When secret meetings in the Prefect’s bathroom were the highlight of Lily’s week.

“Look at you,” coos Narcissa, her hand trailing down her hair, long nails gently scratching the underside of her jaw. “Desperate,” she says. “Pathetic.”

Lily watches her bend down, move forward, her face mere inches away. She could kiss her here, could do it easily, but Lily knows she won’t. Knows now isn’t the time.

_“Filthy.”_

Warm breath ghosts across Lily’s skin, sends a shiver down her spine. The word is said almost lovingly, Narcissa’s painted lips tilted in a soft smirk, in the shadow of a smile, and Lily feels her body clench, feels it burn with the desire to be touched. She’s wet, desperately so, and it’s ridiculous, she thinks, how much she wants this, wants Narcissa.

In any other situation, Lily would hate it. With anyone else, Lily would hate it. But here, with Narcissa, she loves it. Craves it. It’s just _her_ , she thinks. An inexplicable pull to _this_ , to this particular type of pleasure.

Narcissa leans against the bathroom’s sink, fingers parting her robes, and Lily’s eyes light with fire. She knows what’s coming, feels the anticipation bubble in her gut, feels the adrenaline course through her veins. When Narcissa beckons her forward with a crooked finger, Lily crawls the floor’s distance, settles down between Narcissa’s thighs just as she knows she’s meant to.

When she’d entered the pub to find Narcissa already there, she hadn’t wanted to expect anything, to hope for anything. Now, as Narcissa’s expensive knickers are pulled off, her legs parted and waiting, Lily feels like an idiot for not following her into the bathroom sooner.

The first touch of her tongue has Narcissa gasping, has Lily clenching her legs together to ease her own arousal. Narcissa places her hand back in the mess of Lily’s hair, her touch guiding Lily’s movements, and Lily follows easily. She dips the tip of her tongue between Narcissa’s folds, laps at her, tastes her in a way she hasn’t in years.

“Good,” Narcissa breathes, pressing against her face, and Lily groans, curls one hand around the flesh of Narcissa’s thigh, the other settling below her mouth, two fingers easing into the wet heat while Lily tongues her clit.

Lily does not kid herself with tales of romance and love and long, sensual love making. Their arrangement has never been that, and it isn’t now. The goal is to get off quickly, is to ruin each other in mere minutes and to walk away like it never happened at all.

“On the floor in a public bathroom,” Narcissa is saying, her voice breathier than it had been a moment ago. “Like some type of _whore_.”

Lily moans again, doubles her efforts. Arousal coils in her core, and she can’t help but reach down to her own cunt. She slips a hand under her knickers, unsurprised to find them soaked through, and presses two fingers against her clit, rubbing with the rhythm of her tongue.   

Narcissa continues to talk, to call her names, to degrade her. Lily listens, enjoys both the words and the way Narcissa’s voice grows increasingly strained, like she’s struggling to hold on. By the time her words are coming in barely audible breaths, Lily knows what’s about to happen.

Narcissa comes with a soft cry, just the way she always had, and Lily licks her through it, keeps at it until she’s being pushed away. When she looks up, Narcissa’s face is flushed, her cheeks a pale pink, her breath coming in audible pants. She motions for Lily to get up off the ground, and Lily does, a loud moan passing through her lips as Narcissa pulls her forward, her hand slipping down her trousers and getting her off with quick, practiced moves.

It’s only then that Narcissa will kiss her, only as the both of them are coming down from their high that she’ll dip her face forward and capture Lily’s mouth. It’s not _gentle_ , exactly, but it is tender in comparison. Her lips are soft, ample, the taste of her mouth sweet as she tastes herself on Lily’s tongue.

After, once she’s fixed herself in the mirror, Narcissa will be the first to leave. Lily will watch, just as she had at sixteen, and follow only moments later.


End file.
